Too Deep to Heal
by Hedhurien
Summary: Republished sequel to A Mother's Choice. Celebrían passed to the shores of Valinor in the year 2510, leaving behind all she loved. Now she must find the words to speak of her choice to her husband before it is too late.


**Note:** I am republishing this segment because I cut the originally planned 2 chapters into 1 and added another volume to the series. Some things are changed, and the interaction is highlighted. Please let me know what you think - I personally think this version makes more sense.**  
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**A/N:** This is the second installment of the "Too Deep to Heal" series, being its namesake, surrounding Celebrían's departure in the year 2509 of the Third Age. It was not intended to be a series, but it is now. :) It is the sequel to "A Mother's Choice", but I do believe it stands alone. Want a reply? Make sure I can contact you. Please see my bio for a couple notes on these stories.

**Disclaimer: **Middle-Earth and its respective elements are the property of Tolkien and his estate, not me. I wish, but no, as per usual...

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Too Deep to Heal

Ithil's rays shine upon Imladris, bathing the Elven realm with her gentle glow and hiding all trace of the dark pain that dwells within. The halls echo with a deep silence tainted with a pain too deep to touch in the dark of the night and all within sleep, readying themselves for the coming of morning and what it will bring. All except one…

I stand on the balcony adjoining my chambers, hands resting on the railing and dark eyes reflecting the pained conflict ensuing deep inside me. My heart lies heavy in my chest, its beating seeming to slow to a melancholy rhythm that matches my thoughts.

Since my return from Lórien the shadow upon my presence has not diminished; indeed, if any change has come over me at all, it has only deepened the darkness that I am slowly descending into. Two weeks have passed since our return from Lórien and still I have not found the words to speak of it to Elrond or the children. The words escape me entirely, for I know not how to tell them without making them feel less than my grief. The darkness is continually proceeding to overwhelm me, and if I am forced to lose my last days with them to anger, I know that my fëa will desert me entirely.

And even so, I still wonder if I have indeed made the right choice. So much of me wishes to remain in Imladris – these lands have been such a haven for so long, and it does not seem right that I must depart from them to reach my own haven so far away. My heart knows that remaining here will destroy me, but so much of me does not want to believe it. I am so close – so unbelievably close to saying my final goodbyes to this wonderful place and all it holds for me, and I do not think my heart is ready. Perhaps it is better for me… no, I _know_ that this is better for me… but acceptance does not came any easier.

I can do no more than stand here and pray to Eru that he will guide me when the time is right, for there are no words befitting my decision to leave. One does not know or understand this pain until it is experienced… I know that I never did. Now I truly wish with all my being that I still remained in ignorance, but alas, it is too late for that. There is naught I can do other than what I have already tried, for though my husband is an excellent healer, he cannot heal my soul. He can heal my body and for a time bring me happiness, but the wounds in my fëa can be healed by no others but the Valar themselves.

So lost am I in my thoughts that I do not hear the soft footsteps behind me until my husband slips his arm around my shoulders.

"Meleth, what are you doing out here at this hour?" he asks me quietly.

"I could not sleep," I answer, but he knows me too well; he knows it to be a lie.

He pauses for a moment, draping his robe over my shoulders, before placing his fingers under my chin and gently forcing me to meet his eyes. I know of no other with eyes the same shade of steel grey – the same unbending sternness held within them – that can soften them until they match the gentleness of goose down. It is with these that he looks at me now, seeking the truth of what brings me out into the chill evening air from the warmth of our bed.

"Truly, meleth," he says gently. "What has brought you here?"

I hesitate in my answer, averting my eyes. "My heart," I say at last, staring past him to fix my eyes upon Ithil as she makes her way through the sky, pulling her vessel behind her.

"What?" A puzzled look crosses his face – a look rarely seen upon the features of my husband.

"Please, meleth," I beg of him, "not now. Now is not the time to speak of this."

Concern now darkens his eyes as he ducks his head to meet my own, and his hand upon my arm effectively stops me from stepping away.

"Now is as good a time as any," he responds quietly. "What is troubling you so?"

I curse myself for getting into this at such a time. If only I had stayed in bed, I know I would not be having this conversation with him now. How can I break his heart on the eve of our wedding day? I turn my head toward the stars, unconsciously seeking out the Star of ëarendil, searching for the answers I know he will not give me – nay, the answers that he _cannot_ give me. I close my eyes briefly and utter a silent prayer to Eru, begging him to guide my words as best he may.

"I…" I pause, unsure of even how to begin. "I… No… Please, meleth, do not misunderstand me," I begin. "It is nothing you have done, but…" For a long moment, I cannot continue, and he does indeed misunderstand me. His hand tightens upon my arm.

"Celebrían," he begins, his tone sounding decidedly strangled, "few of the Eldar have ever broken their vows before."

A strangled, bitter laugh escapes me as I shake my head. "No, meleth-nin," I answer with a shake of my head. "I do not seek division from you – not in the way you mean. But I know now that I must leave these shores – Middle-Earth is no longer for me. My body is healed, thanks to your skill, but my fëa has not yet followed – and I do not think it ever will. There is a darkness that strives to consume me, and slowly, it is succeeding. My heart tells me that I have only so much time before I cease to live here."

My last words are a whisper, each one tugging cruelly at my heart, and it is then that I realize that my husband has released his hold on my arm and is staring openly at me, disbelief and pain clouding his eyes.

Reaching a hand out to lay my palm against his cheek, I smile softly, a smile laced with bittersweet sadness. "I know you, meleth. I know that our children will thrive under your guidance. Know that I would not do one of our years together over again – my only regret is that I must leave before my time. But it is not fair to them or to you to live with a woman who will slowly become but a shell of the one you met so long ago. It is not fair to them to see me so changed – and I cannot hurt you anymore."

He takes a step back from me and I can see the emotions flickering across his features, sadness, anger, and despair all fighting for prevalence as he strains to keep them from showing. He turns from me now and steps through the light curtains and I watch him go. If I could have chosen, I never would have hurt him this way. My heart feels as though someone is carving it out with a knife and tears well unbidden in my eyes. My one true fear is losing my last days here; I need his comfort – not this.

Stepping through the curtains, I see him immediately, standing with his back to me and leaning against the doorframe of our bedchamber. As I draw closer to him, I can see the slight quiver of his shoulders that belies the calm he is trying to maintain. I move in front of him, reaching up to gently cup his face in my hands.

"I'm sorry, meleth," I whisper to him. "Please – don't do this to me. I didn't want to hurt you… I –" A tear slips down my cheek, but I ignore it, focusing instead upon the man I stand to lose.

He regards me with a strangled, muted pain and I see the tears he struggles to keep from falling. The Lord of Imladris has grown expert with keeping his emotions from his face, but he cannot keep them from his eyes – especially not from me. I have run out of words to say. I had none to begin with, and while I remain certain that had Eru not aided me, I would have killed my husband then and there with grief, I still have run dry. I settle for the only words I can think of.

"Im le melan," I whisper, searching his eyes for some sign that he has not shut me out completely as the tears spill unheeded down my cheeks.

My words seem to break his reserve, or perhaps it is the sight of my tears, for he has never stood to see me in pain, such is his love for me. He closes his eyes for a moment as he places his hands on my shoulders, and when he opens them again, he draws me close against him as his own tears break through his restraint. My heart twists as I curse myself for the pain I am causing him.

I lose track of time as we stand together, enveloped in one another's arms and offering the comfort that only we can give. Perhaps it is hours that we stand there, or perhaps mere minutes, but finally we draw back from each other, though we do not let go.

"I'm sorry," I whisper again, my eyes meeting his. "Im le melan."

He shakes his head at me. "No," he answers, his voice somewhat hoarse. "Forgive me for not seeing it – for not seeing it in time to help you."

"No!" I cry out, wrapping my arms about him and drawing him back to me. "Do _not_ lay the blame on yourself, meleth! If the blame goes to any, it goes to the cursed creatures who chose to waylay me on my journey. You did all you could – and had you not, I would be gone by now, taken to Mandos' Halls. There is naught else you could have done, for the Will of Eru will be done, and so I must leave. But please," I continue, drawing back just enough to touch his cheek with my hand, "do not weigh yourself down with guilt for something that is not your doing."

He nods slightly, dropping his head slightly to kiss me, but I can sense the quiet battle that ensues within him – the battle that he is desperate to keep from showing. It matters not how much his heart is breaking – he would not hurt me further, and this knowledge alone is enough to rend my heart in two. I step back and draw him back to the bed, knowing somehow that we still have a few hours before Arien's rising. I toss the robe across the foot of the bed and slip between the covers, watching him as he wordlessly follows.

"Promise me," I entreat him. "Promise me you will not torture yourself with this." I sit up against the pillows, waiting for his answer. "Do not say you will unless you can say it truthfully," I add, almost too softly to be heard.

His eyes search my face, looking for the one trace of blame that he thinks is there. I suppose that he does not find it, for he breathes in and looks me in the eye. "I will not," he answers. "And so do I promise that a part of you will remain with me."

And somehow, we fall back to sleep before the night is over, wrapped in each other's arms and drawing comfort from the mere presence of the other. I remain awake just a bit longer, watching him.

_Elrond…_ His name whispers across my thoughts. I wish to the Valar that I could bear this the way he does. After so many years together, I know him well enough to know that he is hurting beyond recall – but none of it will pass beyond his stoic mask. He has borne so much in his life… A father he almost never knew… A mother who left before his time… A friend and leader that fell when he should have lived to view eternity… And now a wife, destined to pass beyond his reach until time calls him to join with me once more.

I wish I had not been called to burden him with this… and yet I have no choice – how could I say naught of it, and then leave one morning, never to return? Perhaps that would have been easier…

And I know that I will have to tell the children come morning, for I have known since I made my choice that they would be told once Elrond knew, but for the moment I can forget, just briefly, and allow myself to think that somehow, things will turn out all right.

For some things are too deep to heal, and such are the wounds within my heart and soul – my spirit is giving up. I know our love for each other will never diminish, and as my mother said not long ago, such is the gift of our race, for though my passage comes early, we may be reunited with the passage of time.

Because only in the Blessed Realm with the passing years can such tears be mended, and for now, I lie back and lose myself to sleep with his arms around me. Some wounds are too deep to heal in a mortal world. It does not mean that an immortal one cannot accomplish what its counterpart cannot.


End file.
